Thoughts
by Vinividivinci
Summary: Teresa's thoughts on her relationship with Jane from Blue Bird through Season 7, The Whites of His Eyes.


When she'd started dating Pike it had been the first time, in a long time, that she'd had a companion with whom to do things. It had been nice. No, it had been more than nice. It had filled an emptiness that she hadn't even known she'd had.

For years she'd focused solely on her career. Okay, that wasn't quite true and she was honest enough to admit it. She had focused on her career and Jane. Her life had revolved around his quest and around the need to prove herself, to prove that she was the best at what she did and the best at controlling the brilliant, but damaged consultant.

But then Jane had fulfilled his goal and had killed Red John. He'd fled the country and suddenly she had nothing, no career and no Jane. She'd felt lost. She'd _been_ lost, without a purpose or a future. Not that the job in Washington had been bad, for it allowed her the time to heal and put everything behind her.

She laughed slightly at herself to think she ever _could_ put those ten years behind her. In many ways those years had come to define her, or at least to shape the woman she'd become. And she would never regret them, would never regret the years focusing on her career and on Jane.

But after he'd gone – and strangely even more so when he'd returned, she'd felt empty. Her career, although still important, was no longer the main reason for her existence. And Jane reappearing in her life hadn't filled that emptiness, although a part of her had hoped it would.

Because he'd come back as her friend and sometimes partner and the emptiness was not about the lack of either. No, she had friends and partners, with her old CBI teammates, her new colleagues in Washington and, after his return, again with Jane. No, it was not friendship she missed, it was companionship and passion and tenderness and _love._

If there had been a secret yearning in her heart that those desires would be filled now that Red John was gone and Patrick had returned, well, she hadn't admitted it, to herself or to anyone else. No, he was her friend, her – she wasn't quite sure what other word described him. But what he was not was the man who would hold her tenderly and touch his lips to hers and make her feel like a woman who was loved.

He still wore his ring, which was a very visible sign that Jane had buried his heart with his wife. She had known, very soon after arriving in Texas, that she had to put him out of her heart, even if she hadn't yet acknowledged he was there.

And then Marcus had entered the picture and his admiration and caring and tenderness had struck a chord and had filled the loneliness that had become almost unbearable. For the first time in years she had someone to touch, to hold, to care for – and someone to do the same for her.

For the first little while the feeling was so heady, so intoxicating, that all else fell away. She barely thought of anyone but Marcus and how nice it was to have someone of her own. And he didn't use her or want her for anything other than as his love.

But as soon as that initial rush had worn off – and it had worn off faster than she would have expected, something began to bother her. She didn't know what it was because Marcus was practically perfect. He was smart, funny, kind, considerate and very, very sexy. But there was something _missing_ and she couldn't figure out what it was.

She actually spent quite a bit of time _not_ thinking about it, although the thought would creep in unexpectedly, often at the oddest times. If it hit her when looking at Jane's couch, or walking into a coffee shop and ordering tea without being aware of what she did – well those things didn't mean anything. It was just the confusion of a new relationship.

She remembered lying curled up with Marcus on her couch, watching a movie and thinking how nice it was to be able to do something so relaxing, so much fun. There were no plots – except the one in the movie, no stratagems, no secrets and, best of all, no serial killers. It was just her, a handsome man and a rather stupid action flick that Marcus seemed to love.

Her mind started to wander as he focused on the movie. She wasn't much into these kinds of films, preferring classics or more gentle pictures. She dealt with enough real violence in her life not to enjoy it in fictional form. Her mind suddenly popped to Jane and his love of old movies and of nature shows. He had a strange innocence and wonder about him and she'd always wondered how he'd maintained that after the horrors he'd experienced. He was an odd mixture of pain and joy, hardness and compassion, gentleness and stubbornness that always kept her guessing. He was not a simple, straightforward guy like Pike. No, he was much too complex for that.

A sudden exclamation from Marcus – as some bad guy got slaughtered on screen – brought her back to the present and a feeling of guilt. She shouldn't be thinking of Jane while practically sitting in Marcus' lap.

But the feeling of something being off, being not quite right continued. She had many a serious talk with herself, impatient that she couldn't simply relax and enjoy the love of a good man. She also spent time convincing herself that she was in love with Pike, or if not _quite_ in love, then she was falling in love. She hoped.

In the end she did convince herself that what she felt for him and certainly what he claimed to feel for her was enough. It was what most people had and would mean a good life. She would be – maybe not totally happy, but she would be content, and considering what she saw everyday, content was good.

She continued to ignore the little voice that warned her she was making a mistake. If she let go of Marcus she'd have nobody and she'd be back to loneliness and looking ahead to a life lived without companionship. She had to take the chance while she had it. He was a good man and more than she probably deserved.

And then Jane had pulled his famous stunt. She could never remember _ever_ being so mad at him in all their years together. Looking back on it she realized that she was way angrier than the situation actually warranted, although it was a stupid trick he'd played and she had a right to be mad at him. But she'd been furious - furious and hurt and _devastated_. She had made a quick and irrational decision right then to get him out of her life. He was no good for her and if she was going to make a new life with Marcus then she needed to divorce herself from the man who had been with her, in one way or another, for twelve years.

It had been painful and wrenching, but strangely she'd felt a sense of relief as well. The anger towards Jane had allowed her to finally accept she was making the right decision in going to DC and in marrying Pike. Her anger had allowed her to justify the choice to give up everything she had and move on to a totally new life.

She was flying away to a life married to a nice, decent guy. They would buy a pretty house, have two cars and two careers and they'd be – content. She'd thought, as she sat in that seat on the plane, that that was all that she could expect.

And then Jane had come limping down the aisle, a look on his face she had never seen before. She'd instantly felt her anger swell, but it had died almost instantly, leaving her in shock. The words he had said were burned into her soul. She would never, ever forget them. She would treasure them until the day she died.

She had never seen Jane so – passionate, so moved, so determined and yet so frightened all at the same time. She knew he was being honest with her – it seeped out of his every pore.

After he'd been taken off the plane she had suddenly realized that all the passengers had just witnessed a moment that should have been incredibly private. She had felt an instant flood of embarrassment, but it had only lasted the few seconds it took for her mind to turn back to what Jane had said.

And it was in that moment that something clicked in her. It was that something that had bothered her all during her time with Marcus. And with a small smile it dawned on her that that something was Jane. Of course! _He_ was the reason she had settled for contentment, not happiness. He was the reason she could never be totally sure she loved Marcus. He was the reason she'd just about made the most stupid decision of her life. He'd been there, in the background, not saying anything (the idiot) and his silence had almost led her to DC.

On that realization she stood and made her way into the aisle, the lady next to her cheering her on. She'd collected her things and walked to the front of the plane where she'd pulled her badge and explained she had to get off. The passengers erupted in applause and she could feel herself blush as the embarrassment returned, but she could also feel her shoulders relax and a warm glow start somewhere in her belly. She had turned around and had given everyone a smile.

"Go get him honey!" one woman shouted.

"I plan to", was all she said.

She had been remarkably cool going into the interrogation room – for once much more in control that Jane. She was rather proud of herself for that although in the end it hadn't mattered. In the end they'd both gotten what they wanted.

After that it had taken them time to learn to be with each other, to move from friends to lovers. It had often been awkward, sometimes embarrassing, others rather funny, but always wonderful.

Unlike her relationship with Pike, which she'd fallen into rather easily, her relationship with Jane took much more work. But that was okay, because it meant so much more. She knew this was it – he was the man she loved, even if she couldn't actually say it to him, at least not right away.

Over the weeks they'd been together Patrick had had to learn to be more open with her, not to hide things like he'd done in the past. She was surprised at how well he was actually doing in that regard. She'd only mentioned it the once and he'd taken it to heart and had begun to tell her just about everything.

What really astounded her – and thrilled her – was that Jane no longer did his plots and plans without her. Oh, he still _did_ them, but now he considered her his co-conspirator and she was pretty sure he was having a ball with it. He actually got more enjoyment out of watching her do things like her fake psychic routine (taught by him of course) then doing it himself. She couldn't help but smile when she remembered him curled up under his blanket at the FBI building, coaching her through her routine while sick with a cold. He was reveling in working with her as a true partner and, if she was totally honest, she was enjoying it too.

Of course things hadn't been _totally_ smooth sailing, but when were they ever in a new relationship, especially considering the history they had together. She had been the one to find it a bit awkward moving from friends to lovers. It's not that she didn't _want_ it – hell, she'd been hot for him for years. But when it came down to acting on those desires, well, she'd faltered.

And of course that had made him worried and tense and had just about screwed up their first time together. It had been at that moment that she'd realized something. As nervous as she was about this whole thing, he was ten times more frightened. She knew he hadn't actually planned to tell her how he felt, but he'd been forced to instead of losing her. He claimed, and she believed him, that he was glad he'd done it but that didn't completely erase his fear.

And then she'd gone and made it worse by acting like some Victorian virgin, all tense and unsure. She knew it had been because it meant so _much_ to her – it meant everything – but that didn't change the fact that she'd acted as if it didn't.

It had only taken one look at Jane's face – which she found much easier to read now than before – to realize she had to do something, and fast, to redeem the situation. It hit her that Jane hadn't been in a relationship since his wife, and as far as she knew, had only had the one sexual encounter with Lorelei. He had to be feeling uncertain and she'd made it worse.

So she took a deep breath and told him how much she desired him and wanted him and how she'd lusted after him for so long and how nervous she was because of her long-standing passion for him. It wasn't easy to say, but it was, quite simply, the truth.

He'd slowly smiled and had leaned down and kissed her gently and then things had gone better – much, much better – from there.

From that moment on they had begun to explore a new facet of their relationship and it was amazing. She had always avoided comparing the men she had known to each other, thinking it wasn't fair to any of them, but in this case she couldn't help it. For a man so out of practice Patrick was – simply wonderful. She should have expected it, she realized. Anyone who could read people so well, and who could do such incredible things with his hands _had _to be good at sex.

She grinned as she thought about their times together. Not only were they full of passion and love and tenderness – and sometimes novelty – they were also fun. She'd never laughed so much when making love as she did with Patrick.

One thing that was very different from other men she'd known though, was that Jane was an intensely private man. As flamboyant as he could be, he didn't like to wear his heart, or his passion on his sleeve. Unlike Marcus, who always wanted to touch her, Jane confined himself to small touches when in public. It was funny, but she found those more erotic, more sexy and definitely more of a turn-on than any of Pike's kisses and hugs.

Of course she probably wouldn't have if it weren't for the fact that those small touches turned into something quite different when they were alone and behind closed doors.

She had wondered for a while if his lack of public displays were because she'd asked that they keep things private for now. She figured it was partly that, but also that that was just the way he was. It may have come from all the years keeping his emotions and thoughts to himself after the tragedy of losing his wife and daughter, or it might have just been whom he was. In the end it didn't matter, because she was sure of his love and that he desired her.

So now, here they were, weeks into their relationship and she was not content, not at all. Because content is what people got when they settled, when they accepted that they didn't deserve more than that. Contentment was what you got when you let loneliness make your decisions for you rather than love.

No, she wasn't content, she was _happy_. She smiled and thought back to their weekend in Chicago. It had been then that she realized what she felt wasn't exactly happiness either. Yes she was happy, but it went beyond that. What she felt was joy. For the first time ever in her life she felt the joy of being loved and of loving in return, completely and absolutely.

And it had been Patrick who had made her realize that. It was Patrick, who had shown his loyalty and his love to her by helping her family, and by showing her that they didn't hate her, but that they loved her and missed her. Patrick, who had lost his own family so horribly, had given her back hers.

And then she's seen him with the children and holding her new nephew and her heart had flipped and she had known. He had given her his love – after all he'd lost and all he'd been through she still meant enough to him to put that aside and to be there for her and to love her.

In that moment she knew she had to tell him. The worry subsided and the fear that it wouldn't work or that he'd be too frightened to have a life with her. Everything else faded away except for him and his love – and the fact that she loved him.

"Would it surprise you if I told you I loved you?" she had asked him. She'd seen him hold his breath, and then answer seriously. He had never demanded her love – had never asked her to say it, even though he had to have known how she felt. He had allowed her to come to it in her own time, but in that instant she realized how much it meant to him, how anxious he was to hear the words.

When she'd said it he'd smiled – yes, partly in amusement at her pride in saying it, but she knew it was more than that. He too was filled with joy – the same joy she'd seen in that TSA interrogation room when she'd told him she felt the same. She, Teresa Lisbon, girl from Chicago, tough but sometimes insecure woman, had brought this man real joy.

Why hadn't she told him sooner?

She suddenly realized how blessed she felt to be the person who _could_ bring joy back to a man who had lived years in a bleak and pain-filled existence. She knew that he would always feel pain and loss and grief for his family – but that wasn't all he would feel and that was because of her.

She'd gone around with a feeling of euphoria for quite a few days. Even Cho had noticed that she was acting differently, although the poor man still didn't have a clue why. She almost felt mean, at this point, in still hiding things from him, although she figured it was partly his fault. He didn't want to see anything, so he didn't. She wondered curiously how he was going to react when they did finally tell him.

But things had been great – wonderful. She was totally and absolutely sure that things were going to work out just fine. They'd had a few bumps, but they were meant to be together and life with Jane was surprisingly easy – easier than she'd ever hoped for.

Until now.

She should have known. _Nothing_ was perfect and Jane certainly wasn't (hadn't she learned that lesson before?). And she had to admit that she was far from perfect either.

But the last thing she had suspected was that he would interfere with her duty and her job.

At first she'd been blazingly angry at him. How _dare_ he think it was okay for him to take her away from her team, to endanger everyone and interfere with her career? He had no _right_, she'd said to herself. How could they work together? She would never trust him, could never listen to his words without wondering if he was manipulating her to keep her safe.

As they'd travelled back to her place in her car the silence had grown. She was afraid she would say something she would regret and Jane knew to keep quiet. He'd known her for enough years to know when to tease her, when to stand his ground and when to simply be quiet. Now was one of those times.

But she had glanced at his face during that ride and had seen something, which disturbed her. He looked terrible. He kept his eyes trained away from her, looking out the passenger window but she could still see his expression.

It was full of fear and sadness – but at the same time, it was determined. This was a Patrick that was not going to be moved, his mind was not going to be changed.

God, she thought with a sigh. How were they going to deal with this?

Her anger began to die and instead changed to sadness. There was no way she was going to lose him over this and she was pretty sure he was worried about that. She would have to reassure him that she would not give up on them the first time they hit a major obstacle.

No, she was in this for the long run – for good, as far as she was concerned. So they'd have to do what Jane had suggested, and just work it out. How, she had no idea.

He had offered to let her drop him off at his place, which had startled her and dismayed her and she had wondered if that was what he wanted, but one look at his face had assured her that was the _last_ thing he wanted. He was just trying to give her space.

When she told him that no, she didn't want to do that, she could feel his relief.

By the time they made it inside Teresa's house she was exhausted. She knew they needed to deal with this, but she didn't know if she had the energy right then. She dropped her purse by the door and immediately moved to the bedroom. She needed to get into more comfortable clothes.

When she got to her room she realized that Jane hadn't followed her, which was unusual, and she sighed again. He was probably feeling uncertain as to how she wanted to handle this and was trying to be on his best behavior.

Once in her comfy sweats she made her way back to the living room, to find Patrick standing and looking out of the dark window.

"Can't really see much now", she had said softly.

He'd turned to look at her at that, his eyes gleaming with sadness and fear. She had instantly let out a sigh and had walked over to him and put her arms around him. After a brief pause he had lifted his arms and put his around hers, resting his head in the space between her neck and shoulder.

"I'm sorry", he had whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. I _never_ want to hurt you."

She could hear his shuddering breaths and knew he was on the verge of tears but was desperately trying to hold on. He hated breaking down in front of anyone.

"I'm not letting you go you know", she had told him softly, gently. "Even when you make me mad or pull one of your tricks you're _not_ losing me. I told you I love you Patrick and I've _never_ said that to another man so there's no way you're getting out of this."

That had caused his tears to come, although he kept his head buried in her neck probably hoping she wouldn't notice.

At that they'd begun to speak to one another. He'd confessed his fear – which she had known, but which she sometimes forgot. Of _course_ he didn't want to lose her and would do everything in his power to protect her. She got that. What she hadn't quite understood, before now, was that his love was so deep for her that he would rather lose her love, her respect, than to lose _her._ He would not let another person he loved die because of his carelessness, or neglect or selfishness, even if that meant he would lose that person in his life.

When she realized this she understood that compromise was going to be difficult and so was working together. She told him she had to be able to trust that he wouldn't harm her team in the process of protecting her. He had agreed to that, but she knew it wasn't that simple.

She held him close as they both went silent. He had lost so much – had lost everything, but had pulled himself back, one step at a time. And he was willing to be beside her, to work with her and watch as she was in danger, but he would not stand back and let her be hurt. And she understood, really she did.

So what did that mean? Could they continue at the FBI? For the first time she started to seriously think about what Jane had said about moving on. Did her job define her? Was that all that she was? Could she find fulfillment in something else?

She had no idea but maybe now was the time to figure it out. She couldn't ask Jane to stop protecting her. For one, he wouldn't listen and secondly, it might destroy who they were together. So what did that mean for the two of them?

Well, it didn't mean they were giving up. All it meant was they would have to explore options; options for working together or for doing something different. She told him that it also didn't mean that she wouldn't kick his ass if he pulled a stunt like that again.

They could get through this and they would. He loved her and she loved him. She took a deep breath and stepped back, looking at his tired, tear-worn face and smiled.

"I'm still mad at you, you know." she told him. He'd nodded, but a gleam had appeared in his eyes. He had known that he was okay, that _they_ were okay and the joy began to return to his eyes, that, tempered with a little caution, because an angry Teresa was a force to be reckoned with.

"Let's go fix some tea and eggs", she suggested, knowing these were his comfort foods.

As they walked to the kitchen together, she thought back on all that had happened since she'd been on that plane in Florida. Her life had certainly changed and she no longer felt empty. She was loved and she loved and she wasn't going to lose that, no matter what the future held.

"So, tell me more about bee-keeping."


End file.
